Darkness, To Emptiness
by Ananke
Summary: Tea leaves and time.


Disclaimer: Enterprise and all related characters owned by Paramount Studios.   
No copyright infringement intended.   
Note: // means italics, ie, flashback dialogue. If anyone can figure out how to teach me FF.net html coding, feel free to email me.  
---  
  
He woke in darkness, to emptiness.   
  
Jon Archer was a bitterly simple man, had no illusions. His current position   
had nothing at all to do with talent and intelligence, everything to do with   
sheer luck and years of effort, of wasted time. So he believed they believed,   
and so he told himself nightly, lying in a cold bed and staring out at stars   
that had ceased to mean anything at all to him.  
  
He had been the first Captain of the Enterprise. These days, he was an old   
man, clinging to a changing throne, waking to darkness, to emptiness.  
  
Slipping a finger around to clean the edge of the mug he held, Jon sat on the   
edge of his rack, only faintly mindful of the sudden nudging at his elbow.   
They had become sacraments, midnight tea leaves and silent stargazing. His   
companions, Beowulf the latest of them, never quite understood the   
importance.   
  
"The Fates are cantankerous." He warned suddenly, words directed more to the   
stars than the beagle.  
  
The pup moaned; ears flattening as his master stood. Archer only grunted in   
turn, stepping over to his sparse desk and lifting the sole picture from it.   
In darkness, in emptiness, it was a luxury he selfishly afforded himself   
after so many years, some odd technology that made her smile shimmer with the   
brilliance of a thousand pearls and her eyes almost dance. He knew Starfleet   
had nothing like it. Hell, he knew the Vulcans had nothing like it.   
  
He preferred to hope that the Suliban had nothing like it. He had, after all,   
found it on his rack only hours ago…a late farewell gift, he guessed, some   
fifty odd years late. Fifty odd years ago, his Star had been the sole   
casualty of a Suliban attack on the Enterprise. No body, no warning. One   
night she had been in his arms, and the next morning she had been taken…or   
had left.  
  
The picture really wasn't all that warming. Her face seemed thinner within   
its lens, her hair different. Was that white that tangled through it, or   
simply illusion? Illusion, it was the conclusion he forced himself to reach.   
If it wasn't illusion, she was somewhere…would be somewhere, had been   
somewhere… aging, living. It was easier to grieve, if he considered her a   
ghost. The picture was a fluke. One of the crew had probably found it on file   
from decades back, during the original mission, and sent it as a welcoming   
gift.   
  
There was no hope.  
  
Guilt…he knew guilt well enough to survive it.  
  
Grip slipping, he stared down at the tea leaves momentarily, seeking a   
pattern. On their last night together, she had read a dagger somewhere   
amongst the froth. No matter that he was about as imaginative as your average   
rock; he had kept the habit up.   
  
Daggers had always signified danger to him. It was common sense, he had more   
than adequately shared his feelings on the subject, had dashed the teacup   
against a bulkhead. She hadn't disagreed with his thoughts that midnight, but   
her loving had been of a different nature, and tears had bled onto his   
shoulder as she slept. When he had woken, their dried paths and the shattered   
china had been all that remained.  
  
"What do you think?" The retired Captain asked the beagle, peering downward   
and into the dark brew.   
  
//Snakes I like, Jon, some of them brag diamonds, and shed skin…//  
  
Elegant predators had always been as much a favorite of hers as minimalist   
innocents, his Star, sardonic defender of all, lover of oddities and pariahs.  
  
"A snake it is, Beowulf." He decided, the picture capturing his attention   
again. White-spindled Star smiled tears at him.  
  
//…diamonds if you can bear the rough...//  
  
"I'm tired." Dropping the picture, he sat heavily at the desk, eyes   
squinting to see the view outside. "I feel old. I'm not sure I mean   
anything, not sure I ever did. These kids are shuttling me as a tribute to my   
former glory, and half of them don't even remember what it is I did."  
  
Quietly, he stared beyond the view port. "To be honest, I don't either at   
times. I know that I loved, and lost. I know that I lived, and that I'm ready   
to die. Maybe you know that too. Or maybe I'm senile and that's all there is   
behind this picture, you dropping cherry blossoms from the future or the past   
and mocking my devotion and my legacy. Maybe you know something I don't…but   
I know everything you don't. That Amazonian journey you wanted to take me on?   
I went. It was amazing. The house on a cliff we planned? You can see the   
ocean stretch to forever on a clear day. The feel of baby down against my   
arms? I felt it, many times. The joys and sorrows of growing old with someone   
who understands you, loves you selflessly? Liz gave that honor to me. Did you   
get any of that, wherever you are? Did they let you have that? I hope so."  
  
//Our life in this world -   
to what shall I compare it?   
It's like an echo   
resounding through the mountains   
and off into the empty sky.//  
  
She had loved that poem. Archer didn't recall who had written it, but felt a   
certain kinship with the poor bastard. "I don't know what it is you're doing   
out there." He continued quietly, stroking Beowulf's silky ears. "But don't   
think you can be forgotten. Darkness is no armor, and emptiness always   
carries an echo, like the wind off those god forsaken cliffs. And don't think   
I blame you. Maybe you did choose to go with them. Maybe you even chose not   
to return. I think you had a reason or two. But like a lot of us do, I   
suppose you might have gotten off track, gotten lost. Fate is a runaway   
train, faster than warp."   
  
Standing, he dashed the teacup against the nearest bulkhead. "I loved you,   
Hoshi, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions."  
  
FIN 


End file.
